by S. Walden
“Got it. Where’s Trask?”
“To the right.”
“You gonna teach me how to haggle?”
“Oh, I’m not very good at that. I try, but usually vendors don’t negotiate until late in the day. I don’t like to go then because all the good stuff’s gone,” I explained.
“So what are we looking for?” Reece asked, then added, “I mean, besides a bureau and a fireplace surround.”
I smirked. “Oh, I don’t know. Interesting stuff.”
“Interesting stuff, huh?”
We made it to the entrance, and my adrenaline kicked into high gear. Once we were through the gates, I picked up my pace. There were a few vendors I wanted to visit first. I’d mapped out our entire course last night, and Reece spent five minutes straight laughing at the notes I wrote in the margins: “Do not exceed 20 minutes” and “Check for dovetail joints—she’s wily” were his two favorites.
“Shut up!” I laughed when he reminded me of my notes. “This is my weird thing, okay?” I took his hand and led him through the doors of Trask Coliseum.
“Your one weird thing?” he asked dubiously.
“Oh my gosh, Reece, you’re hilaaaaarious,” I replied.
He stopped short, pulling me to a halt. “Bailey! Your fireplace surround!” He pointed to the right.
“Reece, there will be loads of fireplace surrounds. And that’s not my top priority anyway.”
I watched him deflate.
“Buuuuuut,” I added, realizing I needed to nurture his enthusiasm. After all, he was at an antique fair with me, and we hadn’t even established the girlfriend/boyfriend thing yet. The guy was amazing. “I really like that surround, so I think we oughta check it out.”
His face brightened. I ignored the poking in my chest.
You made a plan, Bailey. What are you doing? Your entire day is about to be thrown off if you walk over to that surround. Don’t do it. Don’t. Do. It.
We stood directly in front of the surround, considering its size and shape. It was pretty from afar. It was gorgeous up close, and I ran my hand over the detailed woodworking, imagining the piece in place of my headboard. I glanced at Reece every now and then. He studied the surround, observing every square inch before offering his opinion.
“This can’t fit in your bathroom,” he said.
“What about my room?”
“Where?”
“In place of my headboard,” I suggested.
He thought for a moment. “How’d you come up with that?”
“Saw it in a magazine.”
“I like it.”
“Me, too. I think I should get it,” I said, and then the buyer’s high exploded in my brain before I even spoke to the vendor. I snatched the price tag and went in search of him. Reece followed.
“Did we just buy furniture together?” Reece asked.
I nodded.
“Bailey,” he breathed. “This is . . . this is huge.” His eyes were wide and glassy.
“I know.”
I bought nothing else that day. I forgot the map. Tossed my list. Ignored some vendors I’d been planning to visit for months. After the fireplace surround purchase, I just wasn’t interested. I wanted to take Reece for a tour around campus instead, relive some favorite memories of my time as a Seahawk.
“This campus is beautiful,” he said as we strolled down the main sidewalk connecting the older part of campus with the newer part.
“For real,” I replied. “I wish there was half the stuff here when I was in school. I mean, look at that student union! Are you kidding me?”
“Not like that ten years ago?”
“Please.”
We lunched in Wagoner Hall. I showed him my old dormitory—Galloway Hall. We browsed the equipment in the new gym. I ran into an old professor who remembered my name.
“Wow. You certainly made an impression,” Reece said as we loaded my fireplace surround in Erica’s truck before heading home.
“She was my academic advisor, too,” I said.
“So what? She’s gone through tons of students by now. But she remembered you,” he said.
I warmed all over.
“Reece?”
“Hmm?”
“Thank you for coming with me.”
“I had fun.”
“Truly?”
“Truly.”
“Reece?”
“Hmm?”
“Is it too early for you to meet my best friend?”
“No,” he replied.
“Would you like to meet her tonight?”
“Sure.”
“Do you mind kids?”
“I love ‘em.”
I was silent for a moment, pulling onto College Road.
“Reece?”
“Hmm?”
But I wasn’t sure what I wanted to say. No, that’s a lie. I knew what I wanted to say. I wanted to say that I’d never had so much fun sharing my life with a man—not even Brian. I considered that it might be a false feeling. After all, we hadn’t spent that much time together yet. But the more I contemplated, the more I recognized that nothing about my growing infatuation was false. It was real. He was real. This thing between us was real. And it was getting better and better all the time.
“What is it, Bailey?” Reece pressed.
I smiled to myself. “Oh, nothing.”
***
“My kids will demand all of your attention,” Erica said, shaking Reece’s hand. “Know that, and prepare yourself.”
Reece nodded. “Where are they?”
“Oh, they’re coming. Noah just left to pick them up from their aunt’s,” Erica replied. “I wanted a little alone time with you first.” She winked, and Reece chuckled.
“Okay. Lay it on me. What do you wanna know?”
“Erica, be gentle,” I pleaded.
I realized I didn’t know that much about Reece yet: his background, family life, hobbies. I wasn’t sure how I felt about Erica being the first to ask. And that’s precisely why we’re best friends. She could read my thoughts and decided to switch gears.
“Well, I’m sure there’s a lot to you that Bailey still needs to learn,” Erica said, then added, “without me around. So I’ll just stick to boring stuff.”
“Work’s pretty good,” Reece replied, not missing a beat.
“Ha ha!” Erica waved us into the dining room and poured us each a glass of wine.
“Reece is famous,” I said.
“Bailey, stop it,” he chided. “Nobody’s famous.”
“Well, I see your commercial all the time, and I’d say otherwise,” Erica said.
“He’s been featured in two big magazines,” I went on. It was bizarre—my bragging—like I had to prove that my sort-of boyfriend was amazing. Anyone who talked to him for five minutes would know it. And anyway, I don’t brag. That’s not in my nature. All the bragging genes went to Nicki.
“Let’s talk about your work, Erica,” Reece said, redirecting the conversation.
“Fine, but just so you know, I’ll be needing an autograph before you leave tonight,” Erica said.
Reece shook his head and grinned.
“I’m starting an airbrush tanning business,” Erica explained. “And don’t even mention anything about Bailey’s tan, all right? I know it was awful. I heard all about it from her. I’ve been practicing on my husband and getting better.”
Reece nodded.
“What’s your middle name?” Erica asked out of the blue.
“Logan. Have you gotten any clients yet?”
“No. I haven’t started marketing. I’m still learning,” she replied. “Have you always worked in marketing?”
“Yep. How many kids do you have?”
“Two. Do you have any kids?”
“Erica!” I cried.
“Not that I know of,” Reece replied.
Erica smirked. “Do you wanna have kids with my best friend?”
“ERICA!”
Reece threw back his head a
nd laughed.
“That’s it. The questions portion of this evening is over,” I said, and right on cue, Noah and the kids burst through the door. Little Noah and Annie ran straight for Erica, then hid behind her when they noticed Reece. A stranger.
“Stranger danger,” Little Noah breathed.
“No, baby, Reece isn’t a stranger. He’s Mommy’s friend,” Erica replied, and that was all Little Noah needed to hear. He started in on the fifty questions, and I looked at Erica.
“What? He’s not supposed to have any of my genes?” she replied.
Noah introduced himself and added something about how I’m a really special girl (I’m not quite sure what he meant by “special”), then asked Reece if he was interested in helping grill the steaks for fajitas.
“No, Daddy,” Little Noah said. Apparently he had other plans for Reece, and they included Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. He pulled Reece along into the playroom, and I didn’t see him again until dinnertime.
“Oh my God, Bailey, he’s such a cutie!” Erica said as she stirred the sautéing onions and peppers.
“I know,” I replied. “He’s so funny and comfortable. Almost too comfortable. I’m waiting for something horrible to happen.”
I slipped Annie a wooden spoon to play with as she sat on the kitchen floor.
“Stop being a fatalist,” Erica said. “Embrace this. I don’t know why I have a really good feeling about him, but I do. I just do.”
I sliced a tomato while she talked.
“Have you guys . . . ?”
“Nooooo.”
“Has he said he loves you?”
“Erica, get real. We’ve been seeing each other for like a week.”
“Well, excuse me. I don’t know how fast the kids move these days,” she replied.
We worked in silence until I blurted, “I almost like him too much! It’s too soon. But he went to that fair with me today, and, oh my God. What guy does something nice like that? And he got all excited about a fireplace surround. I bought the fu— stupid thing because of the look on his face! Three hundred bucks, Erica!”
Erica burst out laughing. “Girl, you got it bad.”
“Tell me about it,” I mumbled.
“And that’s not a bad thing,” she continued. She placed a lid on the skillet and walked to the fridge.
“It’s too soon,” I repeated. “And I don’t know anything about him. I can’t be this gaga over someone I barely know.”
Erica walked back to the counter with a block of cheese.
“Yes, you can,” she said. “And if you’re gonna be gaga over anyone, then I want him to be that guy.” She jabbed her thumb behind her.
“You don’t know anything about him either!” I said.
“It’s called feminine intuition,” Erica replied. “Check it.”
“Well, check this,” I said softly. “I don’t know if I’m ready to get all crazy over a guy. That sh— stuff that went down with Brian was really hard. I mean, what if I’m just in this ultra fragile state right now, and that’s clouding my judgment? Huh? What if it’s too soon to get involved with someone new? Shouldn’t I have given myself a year? I mean what if—”
“Okay, shut up,” Erica demanded. “You see how fast you made me grate this cheese?”
I peered into the bowl. “Wow.”
“You’re spinning, B! Take some breaths, don’t count them, and calm down,” Erica ordered.
I rolled my eyes and turned to Annie, who sat slapping the spoon as hard as she could against the floor tiles.
“And remember that you’re the one who invited him here to meet me,” Erica said. “That means you really like him. And there’s nothing wrong with that. Stop wigging out.”
“I just don’t wanna get hurt again,” I whispered. “Once he sees all the ugly, he’ll leave like all the rest of them did.”
“Honey, those guys were looking for an impossible woman,” Erica said. “You know the kind of superwoman who doesn’t exist? Perfect hair. Perfect teeth. Perfect skin and eyes and personality and body. Perfect in bed. Perfect demeanor. Perfect clothes. Perfect laugh. Perfect—”
“I get it.”
“They will never be happy. They will always be alone. Why? Because they’re searching for something that doesn’t exist.”
“I think they just wanted someone who was normal,” I countered.
“Really? Because I don’t know any person who’s normal.”
“Erica, you know what I mean,” I replied patiently.
“You told me Reece knows about your OCD.”
“He does. But he doesn’t know how bad it gets at times,” I said.
“Okay then. Talk to him about it. Let him know in advance. Come up with a plan of action for when you freak out. Allow him to have a role in helping you manage your condition so that you can grow a better relationship,” Erica explained.
“Wow, sometimes I think you didn’t waste your money on that psych degree after all.”
“You’re one sarcastic bitch. Thank God I’m into those,” Erica replied.
I giggled and gave her a side hug. Just then Reece and Little Noah walked into the kitchen.
“So what are you girls chickchatting about?” he asked.
“I’m sorry, but did you just say ‘chickchat’?” I replied.
He nodded.
“You mean ‘chitchat’?” Erica asked.
“No. I mean chickchat. You know. When girls chat. Chickchat.”
Erica and I burst out laughing.
“Don’t steal that,” Reece said. “It’s going in an ad campaign.”
We nodded, still laughing.
“So?” Reece prodded.
“We were chickchatting about you, naturally,” Erica replied.
“All good things, I hope,” Reece said.
“From the little we know? Yes,” Erica joked.
Reece chuckled.
“So how’d it go in there?” Erica asked.
“Well, the turtles did it again,” he replied. “There’s no stopping them.”
“Thank God for that,” Erica said. “What would we do if they couldn’t save the day? I shudder—shudder—at the thought.”
“Flip me, Reece!” Little Noah cried.
I grinned and watched Reece pick him up and hang him upside down. He squealed and squirmed as Reece pretended like he was about to drop him.
“Erica, you don’t mind?” Reece called over Little Noah’s racket.
“Wear him out,” she said, lining all the fajita fixings on the counter.
How could this man be so comfortable with people he didn’t know? He spoke to Erica like they were old friends. He played with Little Noah like he’d done it a thousand times. He shook Noah’s hand like they were college buddies reuniting. It upped the mysterious factor, and I knew I’d have to start digging into his past—find out who he really was. Because no one was that affable. No one was that affectionate.
I tried to convince myself that it was an act he put on to charm his way further into my heart. Don’t ask me why I wanted to convince myself of this. Maybe so that it’d all make sense to me. But as we sat at the dinner table laughing and joking and sharing stories, I realized it couldn’t be an act. You see, a genuine nature is too transparent. It has nothing to hide. Only the sinister ones are sneaky. And nothing about Reece Powell was sneaky. He was genuine. Through and through.
7:56 A.M.
Okay, Bailey. You can do this. You’re relaxed. Focused on your goal. Just think of Reece. He’s already inside waiting for you. He wants to see you. He’s falling in love with you. He’s giving you a reason to let go of all this.
“I know,” I whispered.
Don’t be afraid.
I waited for OCD voice to barge in and list all the reasons why I needed to keep my feet firmly planted for two more minutes.
I waited.
And waited some more.
But she never showed. Reece did, though. He walked into the front lobby and leaned against
Marjorie’s desk. He grinned and waved at me. I waved back. He looked up at the clock that hung inside the office over the door, then held up his finger signaling one minute remaining.
But I didn’t want to wait one more minute to walk through the door. I didn’t want one more minute separating me from this man I was falling in love with. I didn’t want one more minute dictating my life, so I threw open the door and marched in without a second thought.
His face lit up. “No, you didn’t!”
I looked at my phone: 7:57 A.M.
“Oh, yes I did!” I cried and jumped into his arms. Without thinking. In the office. With other people around.
What. The. Fuck.
I gasped and pulled away quickly, turning my head to glimpse my colleagues’ reactions. Marjorie’s mouth hung open. Christopher raised his eyebrow at Reece. Patricia suppressed a grin.
Oh my God. Oh my God oh my God oh my God. What have I done?
You’ve just ruined everything, Bailey. That’s what you’ve done.
Shut up, I thought.
All you had to do was wait one lousy minute, and none of this would have happened.
Shut up.
Now some of your colleagues know. And those colleagues will tell other colleagues. And the other colleagues with tell Dan. And you’ll both be fired. Good job, Bailey. Smart thinking.
I shook.
“It’s okay,” Reece said quietly.
I didn’t reply. I ran to my cubicle instead. And forgot to count my steps. What the hell was going on? Suddenly my life decided to spin completely out of control.
Reece followed me. I knew I should have gone to the ladies’ instead.
“Bailey?”
“Go away! You’re making it worse!” I hissed, sinking into my desk chair.
“Who cares what they think?”
“It’s against company policy,” I said. “We could lose our jobs!”
“Nonsense. Nobody’s losing his job.”
“Why is the default masculine?” I asked. It had nothing to do with anything, but that was how my brain operated at times. Better than letting my growing anxiety consume me until I was tapping pens all over my desk.
“Fine. Nobody’s losing her job,” Reece said.
My heart sank. “What are we gonna do??”
“Nothing, Bailey. It’s fine.”